Burden Of Guilt
by Sparkle731
Summary: What if Starsky wasn’t surprised to find out about John Blaine’s secret life? What if Starsky is hiding a dark secret of his own? This is not a slash story although there are some m/m scenes. Chapter 11 & 12. Story is complete.
1. Chapter 1

**BURDEN OF GUILT**

**What if Starsky wasn't surprised to find out about John Blaine's secret life? What if Starsky is hiding a dark secret of his own? Some dialogue and story line is taken directly from the episode "Death in a Different Place" from Season Three. **

**A/N: the idea for this story came from a reader who prefers to remain anonymous however I still want to thank them not only for the inspiration but for having enough faith in my writing to trust me to bring their idea to life. **

**Chapter 1**

Detective David Starsky stood at the grime covered window staring out through the glass into the alley below. His sapphire eyes were veiled, hiding his thoughts from the other officers in the room. He ignored the dead body lying sprawled across the double bed in the middle of the room. He had spent most of his career dealing with the seamier side of life and some cases were more personal than others. This was one of those cases.

The victim's name was John Blaine. Lieutenant John Blaine of the Bay City Police Department. To Starsky, he was more than just a fellow police officer; during the brunet's troubled teenage years, John Blaine had been a major part of Starsky's life.

Starsky turned as he sensed his partner's presence in the room. He always knew when Hutch was nearby. They were more than just partners; they were best friends and had been since meeting at the police academy. The tall blond moved to his partner's side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

The rundown hotel where John had died was known for renting rooms by the month, by the week, by the day or by the hour. The tenants who lived there tended to mind their own business and look the other way. They would not make very reliable witnesses to aide Starsky and Hutch in their investigation. In any murder investigation, the first twenty-four hours are the most critical. After that, evidence gets lost, witnesses disappear, and memories of the event fade. Because of Blaine's reputation within the department, this would be a high profile case and there would be pressure from above to find his murderer as soon as possible. The press would also be snooping around looking for a story. The murder of a highly decorated police Lieutenant would sell a lot of newspapers, especially if there was any hint of scandal involved.

The two friends watched in silence as the coroner's men moved the body from the bed to a portable gurney and left the room. With a heavy sigh, Starsky sat down on the edge of the bed and said,

"His money was gone. They're looking for prints. They don't know the cause of death…probably suffocation." Starsky looked at Hutch, drawing emotional support from those ice blue eyes. "What'd you get?"

Hutch's mouth tightened into a hard, thin line. "One of the ladies downstairs said she saw Blaine come into the hotel last night…late…staggering drunk," There was a slight pause "With a trick." His voice roughened as he added, "Male."

Starsky looked at his partner with a stunned expression on his face. "John?" He said in a strangely subdued voice. "Is she sure? Maybe she made a mistake…"

"No mistake." Hutch said in a harsh voice, his anger surfacing, his eyes reflecting his frustration with the case. "John was in this hotel last night with a nickel and dime hustler."

"What are you talking about?" Starsky said hesitantly. "There has to be some mistake…" He watched as Hutch paced the floor, his hands jammed in his pockets.

The big blond stopped and turned to stare at his partner.

"The manager of this hotel said that Blaine has had a room in this hotel for three years." Hutch informed his partner in a clipped tone.

"He was probably undercover." Starsky suggested.

"Up until six months ago, he was in this room with the same man…recently there have been others." Hutch snapped as he tried to force Starsky to face the truth about the man they had both known and worked with.

"He could have been undercover…" Starsky insisted, his voice no longer sounding so confident.

"Dobey says no." Hutch told him.

"I don't buy that."

"Buy it or not, Blaine's dead and he was with another man."

Starsky looked away and muttered something under his breath. Hutch couldn't be sure but it sounded as if the brunet had said, _"He wouldn't be that stupid…" _Before Hutch could comment, Starsky shoved himself to his feet and growled, "Let's get the hell out of here."

Starsky walked out of the room, leaving Hutch to follow. Hutch knew how close Starsky had been to John Blaine and his wife, Maggie. John's murder and the discovery that he may have been a closet homosexual had to be devastating for his partner. Starsky had always credited John Blaine with helping to keep him from a life of crime when he moved to Bay City to live with his aunt and uncle after his own father was murdered.

Starsky had been an unruly and angry thirteen year old who had been sent thousands of miles away from the only home and family he had ever known. Blaine had taken him under his wing and helped Starsky to adjust to his new life on the West Coast by becoming a surrogate father to the rebellious and defiant teenager. After Starsky returned from a tour in Viet Nam, the two of them had drifted apart as Starsky moved on with his own life but they still saw each other occasionally outside of headquarters.

If John Blaine turned out to be a closeted homosexual, the department would be targeted by the gay rights advocates. The majority of cops were staunchly homophobic. An openly gay cop would be alienated by his peers and could lose his job. While Hutch was still a rookie, another rookie in his precinct had been accused of being gay. The other men in the department had made the kid's life so miserable that he had been forced to quit the force. Three months later, he had committed suicide, unable to live with the shame of being exposed.

More liberal minded than most of his co-workers, Hutch had always been more tolerant of alternative lifestyles. Over the years, he and Starsky had both dealt with the persistent rumor that they were more than just "friends". The gossip and snide locker room remarks had never bothered them since they both knew that they weren't true.

The two detectives left the hotel and climbed into Hutch's battered LTD. He coaxed the temperamental engine to life and pulled into the flow of traffic. Starsky slumped in the passenger's seat, his gaze automatically scanning his surroundings with the watchful eyes of a cop, mentally logging faces to memory.

"Fuck! The press will have a field day with this one." Starsky muttered, slamming the palm of his hand against the dashboard in frustration. This case had all the things that the tabloids loved to exploit; a highly decorated police officer murdered in a seedy motel room where he had last been seen alive in the company of a male hustler.

"We need to talk to Maggie before she hears about it on the news." Hutch said quietly, keeping his eyes focused on the traffic. He wasn't looking forward to talking to John's grieving widow but it had to be done. It was all part of a routine investigation, although this case was anything but routine. "Maybe she knew about John."

"And maybe she didn't." Starsky pointed out, looking at Hutch for the first time since leaving the hotel room. "I mean…what's the point of telling her if she didn't know?"

"Starsky, she was married to the man for over twenty years." Hutch said, as he tapped the brakes to stop for a red light. He reached over and rubbed his partner's shoulder gently, using his familiar touch to settle the shaken brunet. "Maybe she already knew."

"No…" Starsky said in a firm, determined voice. "She didn't." He sounded so sure that Hutch decided not to probe any farther.

"We still have to talk to her. You know that."

"Yeah, I know." Starsky admitted in a resigned voice and a dejected sag of his shoulders. He glanced at his partner, his eyes pleading for understanding. "We just need to go easy, ya know? This isn't going to be easy for her to hear…even if she did know."

"I know." Hutch said with an understanding nod. One of the things he had always admired about his partner was Starsky's compassion and loyalty to the people he sincerely cared about. Starsky kept the key to his heart carefully guarded and very few people were privileged to call themselves more than just a casual acquaintance. "And if she didn't know," Hutch said quietly. "Wouldn't you rather that she heard it from us instead of from some reporter?"

Starsky's eyes darkened with an emotion that Hutch couldn't readily identify. "And what the fuck are we supposed to tell her?" The brunet hissed "Gee, Maggie, we're really sorry about your loss. John was a good man…and oh, by the way, did you know that he was gay?" There was a bitter edge to Starsky's voice that surprised Hutch.

"We have to tell her." Hutch pointed out "Before the reporters get to her.' He looked at his partner closely as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Did you know that John was gay?"

Starsky pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and slipped them on before answering. "We all live in our own little closets. Some of us are just better at keeping secrets than others." He said evasively, avoiding a direct answer to his partner's question. "You know, sometimes I really hate this fucking job." He growled as he turned his attention back to the activity on the street around him..

"That makes two of us, buddy." Hutch said softly. The light changed to green and Hutch continued driving towards the Blaine home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

John and Maggie Blaine lived in modest but comfortable ranch style house on the lower east side of the city in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Starsky's aunt and uncle lived a few blocks away in a similar neighborhood. The two detectives got out of the car and slowly walked up the sidewalk to the front door. Hutch kept his left hand resting lightly on his partner's back to keep him grounded and to let Starsky know that he wasn't in this alone.

Hutch's quiet knock was answered by Maggie Blaine. She was an attractive woman, a few years younger than her deceased husband. She had long dark hair and soft, brown eyes. Eyes that were puffy and red from crying. Despite her obvious grief, she greeted the two detectives warmly. Starsky immediately reached out and gave her a heartfelt hug. She returned his hug, a strangled sob catching in his throat. Composing herself, she ushered them into the neat, modestly furnished living room.

She sat down on the edge of the sofa, while Hutch wandered over to a built-in bookcase to admire John's collection of trophies, awards, medals, and framed commendations. Visible symbols of an illustrious career with the Bay City Police Department. A career spanning over twenty years.

The big blond smiled fondly at a picture of John standing with his arm slung around the shoulders of a teenaged Starsky. In the picture, they were both grinning broadly, in spite of the blood that was clearly visible on Starsky's face. "John was teaching me to box." Starsky explained over Hutch's shoulder. "Bloody nose and all."

"He was so proud of you, David." Maggie volunteered with a soft smile. "He said that he always knew that you'd make something out of yourself." Remembering her manners, she said, "Thank you both for coming. Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Some coffee?"

Both men graciously declined. Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance that spoke volumes without saying a word. Noting the expressions on their faces, Maggie said hesitantly, "What is it, David?"

"Maggie, John was with somebody last night…a young man." Starsky said, trying to choose his words carefully. He still didn't feel comfortable revealing the truth about John to his wife. A truth John had spent a lifetime hiding from everyone around him. A truth that Starsky himself could no longer deny.

"What do you mean?" Maggie asked innocently, looking at Starsky with a puzzled expression. "What are you trying to say?"

"Maggie…last night Johnny was seen taking a young man up to his hotel room…" Starsky said quietly, discomfort echoing clearly in his voice.

"He was always with people like that…that was his job. You know that, David." Maggie said nervously, glancing from Starsky's face to Hutch, as she tried to deny what Starsky was trying so hard to tell her.

"Maggie," Starsky said patiently, "Johnny had a hotel room…he'd had that hotel room for a long time."

"No…he was on a case…he had to be…he just forgot to tell me about it…" Maggie said as she rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand in front of the trophy case with her back turned towards the two detectives. An uncomfortable silence filled the room for several minutes. It was broken when Maggie sighed softly and turned to face Starsky and Hutch. "I know you're not lying, David…I think I've known for a long time…" She returned to the sofa and slumped down on the cushions. "Sometimes, things are better left unsaid."

"Maggie, is there anything else you can tell us that might help us find out who killed John?" Hutch asked quietly. "The hotel manager said that up until six months ago, there was another man in that room with him."

"For a long time John was very close to a young man…" she admitted with something that sounded almost like relief in her voice.

"Do you remember his name?"

"Peter Whitelaw. It was in the papers about a year ago…a young teacher accused of being a homosexual." One solitary tear slid down her cheek. "After Peter filed a lawsuit against the school, John started drinking more and working longer hours…at least he told me that he was working."

Starsky walked over to the wet bar in the corner of the room and poured a glass of sherry. Walking back over to the sofa, he sat down beside Maggie and put one arm around her shoulders, as he handed her the drink. Her hand was trembling as she took the glass and finished the drink in one swallow.

"You okay?" Starsky asked her compassionately, his genuine concern for the woman showing in the tone of his voice.

"I'm fine, David." Maggie reassured him in a carefully controlled voice. "Believe it or not, it helps to finally be able to talk to someone about it."

"Did you ever tell John what you suspected?" Hutch asked in a quiet voice. This was part of the job that he hated, intruding on people's privacy when they were at their most vulnerable.

"No, I was afraid to." Maggie admitted, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I was afraid that he'd leave me if he thought I knew." She looked at the blond, her eyes pleading for him to understand. "He was my husband. We've been married for twenty-four years…and in spite of everything…I still loved him." She turned her attention to Starsky's stricken face. In a softer voice, she said, "David, John was a good man. No matter what you find out...John was a good man." She reached out and gently brushed her fingertips down the side of Starsky's face. "He loved you, David. Despite everything that happened, he really loved you."

A strange expression crossed Starsky's face, a curious blend of sadness and grief, mixed with something that looked almost like anger. Without a word or a backward glance, he shoved himself to his feet and left the room, leaving a stunned Hutch behind. The slamming of the front door indicated that he had left the house.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." Hutch said, offering the woman a hasty apology. "I'd better check on my partner. You know how to reach us if you remember anything you think might help."

"I understand…go to David. He's going to need you now…more than ever." Maggie said, her voice trembling with emotion. Hutch nodded and hurried from the room to catch up with Starsky.

He found the brunet leaning against the side of Hutch's car, looking visibly shaken. Walking to his partner's side, Hutch said softly, "Hey, Buddy…you okay?"

"Let's get out of here." Starsky said gruffly, pulling open the car door and sliding into the front seat. Hutch frowned; concerned by Starsky's unusual behavior, but he held his tongue. Crossing to the other side of the car, he slid underneath the wheel and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine turned over with a puff of smoke and a loud backfire.

Normally, Starsky would have made some smart ass remark about Hutch's car but this time he remained silent, staring out of his window, as Hutch drove through the quiet tree lined streets back to the hustle and bustle of the inner city. They were almost back to headquarters before Starsky finally broke the silence. In a somber voice, he said,

"Nobody's gonna give a damn about what kind of cop Johnny was…all they're gonna care about is that he was gay…" Starsky looked at his partner, his eyes filled with a pain that tore at Hutch's heart. "When I was a kid, Johnny kept me out of a lot of trouble. I always figured that I owed him for that."

"How do you feel now?"

"That I owe it to him to find the scum that killed him and make sure that they pay for it." Starsky replied. "No matter what John may have been…no matter what he may have done…he didn't deserve to die like that."

"Starsk…is there something you're not telling me?" Hutch asked in a concerned voice. An angry Starsky he could deal with. A grieving Starsky he could comfort. He didn't quite know what to do with this stranger that looked like his partner and best friend but sure wasn't acting like him. He pulled up to the curb in front of Police Headquarters and parked. Starsky climbed out of the car without answering and began to walk towards the entrance to the building.

With a sigh, Hutch scrambled out of the car and followed him. Whatever was bothering Starsky, he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. And Hutch knew that if he pushed it, the brunet would just withdraw even more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Starsky unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it over the back of the sofa and then continued on into the kitchen. He had a six pack of beer in the refrigerator and if that wasn't enough to do the job, there was an unopened bottle of Jim Beam under the sink.

Grabbing one of the cans, he popped the tab as he wandered into the bedroom. He thought about taking a shower but that seemed like too much of an effort. Getting drunk sounded more appealing. He threw himself down on the bed, careful not to spill his beer. Leaning back against the headboard, he sat there staring at the wall, lost in his own thoughts.

Memories that he had buried deep inside his mind struggled to resurface. He drained the beer in one long swallow and shoved himself to his feet to grab the rest of the six pack out of the kitchen. While he was at it, he figured he might as well grab the whiskey too. Starsky rarely indulged. He knew his limit and he generally stuck to it. But, tonight was an exception. Tonight, the alcohol offered a quick release from the tension he had felt all day, ever since he'd seen John Blaine's body at the seedy motel.

Under normal circumstances, he would have talked to Hutch about his emotional turmoil. The big blond was more then his partner and his best friend, he was also Starsky's primary support system. They knew almost everything there was know about each other; their likes and dislikes, their strengths and their weaknesses, but, Starsky had one dark secret that he had never shared with anyone, not even Hutch. Now, it looked as if that secret was coming back to haunt him. Starsky drank himself into oblivion, passing out on the bed, still fully clothed.

He slept through the alarm the next morning. The slamming of the front door and Hutch's voice yelling his name aroused him from his drunken slumber. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it as the room tilted crazily and his stomach rebelled.

Scrambling to his feet, he managed to make it to the bathroom before losing the meager contents of his stomach into the commode. He retched violently, the taste of bile bitter in his throat and mouth. He was vaguely aware of Hutch entering the bathroom behind him.

Hutch grabbed a washcloth from the rack and turned on the cold water. Wetting the cloth, he knelt beside his badly hung over partner and gently laid the cold cloth over the back of his neck, while one large hand ran up and down Starskys back soothingly. When Starsky's stomach finally stopped trying to turn itself inside out, he leaned back against his partner for support, breathing heavily through his mouth.

"What the hell are you trying to do to yourself, buddy?" Hutch chided him gently as he used the cold washcloth to gently bathe Starsky's sweaty face. "This isn't like you."

"Can the lecture, Blondie." Starsky muttered "I'm not in the mood to hear it. Not this morning."

"Think you can handle going to work?" Hutch asked, as he straightened up, pulling Starsky to his feet along with him.

"I'll be fine." Starsky growled in an irritated voice. "Just let me grab a shower."

"No offense, pal…but you definitely need one." Hutch said with a fond smile. "You're a little rank. I'll put on some coffee."

Starsky muttered something definitely obscene under his breath as Hutch left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Starsky stripped off his clothes and tossed them in the hamper, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the smell that lingered in the air. He detoured to the sink where he brushed his teeth vigorously and gargled with mouthwash before taking his shower.

Even after a shower and clean clothes, Starsky still felt like crap. His stomach churned uneasily and his head pounded relentlessly, reminding him of the stupidly of his drunken binge the night before. He silently vowed not to do anything like that again any time soon. As he left the bathroom, he grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the top of his dresser and slipped them on. He knew that they wouldn't help much, not today, but they would at least protect his eyes from the glare of the sun.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted him as he joined his partner in the kitchen. Hutch glanced at him, smiling faintly when he noted Starsky's ashen face and the sunglasses, but he wisely chose to ignore them as he poured a cup of black coffee and handed it to his partner. Starsky nodded his thanks as he accepted the coffee and took a careful sip, hoping that it would stay down.

"I don't suppose you feel like eating something," Hutch said. He already knew the answer to that even before Starsky's face blanched and he shook his head vigorously. Hutch had suffered through his own share of hangovers and he knew how his partner felt this morning.

He was more concerned about the reason that Starsky had decided to get shit face by himself. Hutch was a patient man; he could wait until Starsky decided to confide in him. He just hoped that it would be soon. His natural instinct was to protect his partner and he couldn't do that unless Starsky let him.

After Starsky finished his coffee, the two friends left the apartment and climbed into Hutch's car since Starsky was in no condition to deal with the stress of driving. Not today. As Hutch shifted into gear and pulled into the road, Starsky opened the glove compartment and rummaged through it until he found the bottle of aspirin that Hutch kept them for emergencies. Cursing under his breath, he fumbled with the childproof cap until he finally got it off. He shook four white capsules out into the palm of his hand and swallowed them dry, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste that they left in his mouth. He stashed the bottle back into the glove compartment and slammed the lid. The drive to headquarters was made in silence, Starsky silently nursing his hangover and Hutch lost in his own thoughts.

When they entered the squad room, Starsky headed straight for the coffee pot while Hutch sat down at his desk. He found the autopsy report on John Blaine lying on there. Since John was a fellow police officer, the coroner's office had done a rush job. The report held no unexpected surprises. As suspected, Blaine had died from suffocation and his blood alcohol level was well above the norm to be considered legally intoxicated.

"There was no sign of a struggle, no evidence that John tried to resist." Hutch told Starsky as he skimmed through the report.

"He was probably passed out." Starsky suggested, nursing his second cup of coffee since they had arrived at headquarters. "Never saw it coming."

Hutch glanced across their shared desk at Starsky and added, "And there was no sign of any recent sexual activity."

"So what now?"

"Let's pay Peter Whitelaw a visit." Hutch said. Starsky nodded curtly and shoved himself to his feet. He followed his partner out of the squad room and down the hallway to the elevator.

*****

It wasn't difficult to find Peter Whitelaw. After being forced to resign from his job as a teacher because of the publicity surrounding his homosexuality, he had filed a lawsuit against the school system for wrongful termination. After a long, very public, court battle, he had been awarded a substantial settlement. His next step had been to run for public office.

His campaign office was located in a nondescript building located on a quiet side street in downtown Bay City. Inside, volunteers mingled with staff members, attending to various tasks. Peter Whitelaw was a handsome young man in his mid-thirties with finely chiseled features, neatly trimmed brown hair, a thin mustache, and piercing blue eyes. He was casually dressed in neatly pressed black jeans and a sports jacket worn over a light blue button down shirt.

He eyed the two police detectives suspiciously, after carefully examining their identification. "I assume you're here about John's murder." He said in clipped tones. His voice was cool, bordering on arrogance. "Which means that you know about us."

"How long did you know John?" Hutch asked casually sensing the other man's hostility towards the two detectives.

"Almost five years. We met at a club owned by a mutual friend."

"A gay club?" Hutch asked, making a note in his notebook.

"Yes, officer." Whitelaw said with a thin, brittle smile. "A gay club."

"How long were you and Johnny lovers?" Starsky asked bluntly. He glared at the other man almost belligerently. The stare that Whitelaw threw back at him was almost as arrogant.

"Why? Do you wanna hear all the gory little details about what we did with each other?" Whitelaw hissed. His eyes narrowed "Frankly, Detective, that is none of your damn business." He glared at both Starsky and Hutch. "You two are just like everyone else! You see two men together and you think…how disgusting…it's you…society…that kept men like John in the closet." He looked at Starsky and said in a disgusted voice, "You don't think much about all this, do you?"

"I think you have the right to run for office just like everybody else," Starsky said slowly, "I just don't think that you have to use your private life to do it."

"My private life isn't that private anymore thanks to people like you."

"Mr. Whitelaw, we want to find the man responsible for what happened to John and we're going to do that, with or without your help." Hutch said "Did you and John spend any time at a hotel called The Saint Frances?"

"Yes, John felt safe there." Whitelaw said in a resigned voice. "It was one of the few places that we could go to be alone without anyone asking any questions."

"What about bars? Clubs? Any place in that area that the two of you hung out at?" Hutch asked, continuing with his questions as diplomatically as possible.

"A place called the Green Parrot. It was only a couple of blocks from the hotel."

"Did John ever mention anyone named Nick? A local street hustler that probably worked the area…" Hutch said, mentioning the name of a suspect that the woman he had spoken to at the motel had said she had seen John coming into the hotel with that night.

"No." Whitelaw said firmly. He looked at the two detectives with a scowl and added, "I don't expect you to understand this but John and I loved each other. We broke up because I wanted him to come out of the closet when I did but he refused. He said he had too much to lose if he did." His eyes darkened with a mixture of anger and grief "I want you to find the bastard that did this and I want you to make him pay. John was a good man. And if he was murdered simply because he was gay then you'd better not try to cover it up."

"I assure you, Mr. Whitelaw," Hutch said, struggling to hold on to his temper, "Whoever did this to John will be held responsible for his crime. And if John's murder was related to his sexual orientation, then we won't try to cover it up."

The two detectives left the building and headed back to the neighborhood where John Blaine's body had been discovered. Police work often consisted of following every lead, no matter how small, then piecing together the bits of information gathered from witnesses until the detectives in charge of the case figured out the answer to the puzzle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Warning: ****There are some graphic sexual scenes in this chapter involving two male characters that may offend some readers. Do not read any farther if you are offended by this type of material. **

The green parent was housed in a building with garish neon signs out front that advertised female impersonators and openly declared that couples were welcome. Since it was early in the afternoon, there was nobody in the bar except for the man working behind the bar and what appeared to be a female impersonator on the stage, dressed like Mae West.

The bartender nodded at the two detectives as they approached the bar. "Sorry, fellas," he said with a drawl "We're not open for business yet. Come back at 4."

"We're here to ask you a couple of questions," Hutch said, pulling his ID out of his pocket and flipping it over to show the man his badge. Starsky pulled a small snapshot of John Blaine out of his pocket and showed it to the man behind the bar.

"Do you remember seeing this man in here Tuesday evening?" Starsky asked gruffly.

"Hey, man…I don't know. It gets pretty crazy in here, ya know?" The man said with a disinterested shrug of his shoulders. "I can't remember every John that comes in here."

"Take another look." Hutch said sharply. "The man is dead and we want to know if he was in here before he ended up dead!"

The man sighed heavily and took a closer look at Blaine's picture. "Maybe…yeah, I think he was in here. Quiet…kept to himself. Didn't bother nobody…not like the jerks that come in here slumming."

"Do you remember if he left with anybody that night? A young man…early to mid-thirties, black hair…first name Nick." Hutch asked, irritated with the bartender's nonchalant attitude.

"Yeah…" The bartender said slowly "Nick. Nick Hunter. He was in here that night too but I couldn't tell you if they hooked up or not. I didn't see them leave." He looked at the woman/man on the stage and called, "Hey, Sugar. You know Nick Hunter better than I do. Did you see if he left with anybody Tuesday night?"

The man posing as a woman gracefully stepped off the stage and walked over to Starsky and Hutch with an exaggerated sway of his hips. Staying in character, he cooed to Hutch, "Well, hello there…big boy….why don't you come up to my place sometime?"

"Look…uh…" Hutch stammered self-consciously.

"Sugar." The blond said with a toss of his hair. "The name is Sugar." He reached out and tugged at a strand of Hutch's hair. "What a delightful color. I think I'll dye mine that shade…"

"It's natural!" Hutch said in an offended tone, jerking his head away from Sugar's touch.

"What a coincidence," The female impersonator said as he reached up to snatch his wig off his head, as his voice deepened dramatically "So is mine." He smirked at the expression on Hutch's face as he assumed a seductive pose with one hand on his hip.

"Sugar," Starsky said, hiding a faint smile at his partner's discomfort. "Do you know Nick Hunter?"

"Slightly," Sugar said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Pretty boy. Works the streets…" he cocked his head to one side as he examined Starsky's face thoughtfully, "Looks a bit like you, as a matter of fact."

"Did you see Nick Hunter in here Tuesday night?" Hutch asked, showing Sugar the picture of John Blaine. "Maybe with this man?"

"Honey, I was on stage. I wasn't checking out the crowd." Sugar said "I do two shows a night with a half break in between."

Hutch sighed and decided to try another approach. "Do you know where we can find Nick Hunter? We just need to ask him a couple of questions."

Before Sugar could answer, Hutch saw his head jerk to one side, his eyes focused over Starsky's left shoulder. Glancing in that direction, Hutch saw a young man that matched Nick Hunter's description standing in the entranceway. When he saw Starsky and Hutch, he bolted. The two detectives immediately took off after their primary suspect. They burst through the doorway in time to see their prey ducking down a nearby alley.

They gave chase, skirting discarded trash and broken bottles, while still keeping their fleeing suspect in sight. With a concentrated effort, Starsky sped ahead of Hutch and caught up with the suspect, bringing him down with a flying tackle. Starsky wrestled the other man over the hood of nearby car and twisted his arms behind his back, snapping on the cuffs as Hutch skidded to a halt beside him. Breathlessly, he began to recite the Miranda rights, while Hutch searched the young man's pockets for weapons. He pulled a large wad of bills from their suspect's pocket and showed it to Starsky.

"Where'd you get the money, punk?" Starsky growled, as he used the man's cuffed arms to pull him to a standing position. Hunter stumbled, off balance, hitting his hip on the edge of the car.

"Hey, since when is it a crime to have money?" Nick Hunter said sarcastically, glaring at the two detectives belligerently.

"Since you were seen Tuesday night at the Saint Francis Hotel with a man who ended dead before he ended up dead." Hutch growled. "Why'd you run? Unless you have something to hide."

"Hey!" Nick said in a panicked voice "I didn't do nothing! Yeah, I'll admit I took the mark's wallet after he passed out…but you gotta believe me, the dude was alive when I left!"  
"If I were you, Nicky boy," Hutch told him, as he took his arm to escort him back to the car. "I'd call a good lawyer 'cause you're going to need one."

Ignoring his protests, they led their prisoner back to the car to take him downtown so he could be booked on charges of robbery and suspicion of first degree murder. Nick continued to proclaim his innocence all the way to headquarters, continuing to insist that John was passed out but still alive when Nick left the room. He sounded so convincing that Starsky and Hutch almost believed him. After booking Nick and finishing their paperwork, it was time to call it a day.

Hutch suggested stopping at The Pits for a couple of beers and something to eat but Starsky begged off, claiming he was still recovering from his hangover. The partner's parted ways, going home to their own apartments for the evening. After a quick bite to eat, Starsky took a shower and turned in for the night. He fell into a deep, restless slumber, tossing and turning as he began to dream.

_It was summer and he was fourteen. He had lived in Bay City for a little over a year and was spending a lot of time with John Blaine, who had taken a special interest in the troubled teenager at the request of his concerned aunt and uncle. Bit by bit, with patience and understanding, John had broken through the barriers that Starsky had built around himself. He was teaching the adolescent to box, not just the down and dirty street fighting that the brunet had learned on the rough New York streets, but real boxing. He might have been small for his age but Starsky was quick and agile. _

_He was also stubborn and refused to give up, even when he ended up with a bloody nose. John had smiled and took him into the bathroom where he had gently washed his face and stopped the bleeding. John's hands were kind and gentle, his eyes warm and caring, making Starsky feel safe and protected. _

"_Let's get your shirt back on and get you home before Rosie sends out a search party." John told him with a chuckle. He let his hands gently knead the muscles in Starsky's shoulders before handing the boy his shirt. The touch was gentle and intimate but Starsky wasn't alarmed. John was like a second father to him and he welcomed the older man's touch. It reminded him of his father's comforting touch. The boy still missed his father and the rest of his family terribly. _

Abruptly the dream changed, skipping ahead to the summer Starsky turned fifteen. He whimpered softly in his sleep as his mind replayed an event from that summer.

_John had taken him camping for the weekend. He owned a small cabin in the hills just outside the city. Although Starsky wasn't a big fan of the great outdoors, he didn't mind going to the cabin with John, especially when he let the teenager drive after they got out of the city limits. Another forbidden attraction to those weekend camping trips was the beer John always brought along. He always let Starsky have one or two, carefully monitoring how much he drank. It was just enough to give the adolescent a pleasant buzz and make him feel all grown up. _

_In the past year, Starsky had grown almost six inches and was already developing the lean, muscular build that he would carry into adulthood. His rugged good looks was already attracting the girls and, with his easy charm and sense of humor, he was becoming popular with his peers (at least with the female ones)_

_He felt comfortable talking to John about almost anything, including sex. The teenager was not a novice when it came to the opposite sex. He had kissed his first girl when he was ten and fumbled his way through his first sexual encounter just after he turned thirteen. John enjoyed giving him pointers on romancing a woman and gave him practical advise too, on the use of condoms and stressing the importance of avoiding an unwanted pregnancy. _

_That evening, after a playful wrestling match with John, Starsky had been embarrassed to find himself with an unexpected erection. John had smiled and assured him that his reaction was a normal response to their physical contact during the wrestling match. Still, Starsky had blushed and lowered his head in embarrassment._

_He was startled when John knelt down in front of him and whispered, "It's okay, Davey…really it is. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Go ahead…play with it if you want to…I don't mind."_

"_I…I…c..an't…" Starsky stammered. He felt his face growing redder at John's suggestion. Even at his young age, Starsky wasn't vain or ashamed of his body and he'd jacked off in front of some of his friends in the past but this was different. John was an adult, an adult he respected and admired, a man he looked at as a surrogate father. _

"_Bull shit," John mocked him gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Go on…do it. I know you want to. I really don't mind."_

_Starsky hesitated but his cock seemed to have a mind of its own and John's words made it stand up and pay attention. The throbbing ache between his legs demanded to be satisfied. Self-consciously, Starsky lowered his hand and rubbed his palm against the bulge in his sweatpants, trying to soothe the sudden need that set his blood on fire. John smiled faintly and let his hand rest over top of David's as he repeated in an almost hypnotic voice, "Go on…do it."_

_To ease the teenager's embarrassment, he stood up and walked over to a nearby chair, sinking down into it with a sigh. That was when Starsky noticed that John hard-on of his own. He watched, both fascinated and embarrassed, as John slipped his hand down the front of his own sweatpants and began to fondle himself. Watching his mentor touch himself aroused Starsky even more, making his breath come in short, quick bursts. _

_Still, he hesitated. He had been taught that certain parts of his body were private and that certain acts were supposed to be done in private, not in front of an audience. He had also been warned, ever since he could remember, first by his mother and then by his Aunt Rose, never to let an adult touch him inappropriately or in any of his private places. _

_But, he reasoned with himself, John wasn't touching him. He was encouraging him to touch himself. Besides, John wasn't one of those perverts David used to see hanging out in dark alleys back home and he wasn't a stranger. _

_John seemed to forget that David was even there as he threw his head back against the back of the chair and closed his eyes, moaning softly. David watched, fascinated, as John pulled his heavy erection out of his pants and began to stroke the thick, hard shaft. _

_Swallowing hard, David let his left hand slip underneath the waistband of his sweatpants to fondle his own aching cock. His own soft moans of pleasure filled the air as he began to stroke himself. Frustrated by the restriction of his clothing, he pulled his own cock out of his pants and began to jerk himself off. _

_Lost in his own pleasure, he soon forgot about John as he pumped his cock furiously. Finally, he felt the familiar tingling and tightening in his balls. He cried out in relief, his back arching slightly, as he exploded. He felt the warmth of his seed dripping over his fingers and onto his stomach. Panting heavily, he collapsed against the sofa and opened his eyes, to find John sitting in the chair, watching him with a satisfied smile on his face._

"_See, nothing to it." John said softly with a chuckle. "Now, don't you feel better?" He stood up and left the room, going into the bedroom and closing the door. A few minutes later, Starsky heard the shower running. David cleaned off as best he could with a discarded napkin that was lying on the coffee table and sat back to wait for his turn in the shower. _

Starsky awoke with a start, his heart pounding frantically, as the remnants of his dream faded away. He hadn't thought about that night in John's cabin for years. The next morning, they had both acted like it had never happened and Starsky didn't realize that an invisible barrier had been breeched that would lead to events that would scar him emotionally for life.

Afraid of the dreams returning if he went back to sleep, Starsky stumbled to his feet and made his way into the kitchen. He needed a drink. It was the only way to keep the memories at bay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The next morning it was immediately apparent that Starsky was in a foul mood when Hutch picked him up for work. Hutch decided not to call attention to it. A heavy silence filled the car as Hutch maneuvered his way through the rush hour traffic.

"Late night?" Hutch asked, cautiously trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Something like that." Starsky mumbled sullenly. He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes putting an abrupt end to any further conversation.

Both men were angry, but not that surprised, when they arrived at headquarters and found a memo on their desk informing them that Nick Hunter had been released just before their arrival. Starsky snatched up the memo and stormed into Captain Dobey's office without bothering to knock first. The heavyset black man glanced up from the paperwork he had been looking over and glared at his best team. In a gruff voice, he said, "Starsky! Don't come in my office…"

"Cap, don't Starsky me." Starsky growled, slamming the memo down on the desk in front of his superior. "That is a piece of garbage!"

"Hunter's out on the streets because we had to let him go. Some guy named Lawford put up the five thousand dollar bail." Dobey informed his irritated detective calmly.

"Five thousand dollars!" Hutch exclaimed in surprised voice, stunned at the low amount of bail.

"For killing a cop?" Starsky said sharply

"The charge was possession of stolen property." Dobey said in a level tone.

"But we had witnesses…" Starsky said defensively, ready to argue his case against Hunter's release.

"The witnesses can only put him on the scene. It's circumstantial at best."

"A cop is killed and you release the prime suspect?" Starsky growled, struggling to control his anger at the stupidity of the system.

"We don't know that Blaine was killed." Dobey argued "It says right here in the report." He ran his finger along the autopsy report as he read, "There was evidence of alcohol and a trace of barbiturates in the blood."

"Oh, that's great, Captain." Hutch said with a smirk. "Now you're suggesting the man was a junkie."

"He could have been taking pills," Dobey argued back "Everybody takes pills." He glanced back at his copy of the autopsy report and added, "Look, I'm just reading what's in the report. He could have even died of a heart attack."

"It also says with signs of suffocation!" Starsky said loudly "Unquote!"

"And if you read to the end of the paragraph, it says victim may have had an occlusion, thereby causing a heart attack." Dobey countered

"Maybe, maybe, maybe…" Hutch muttered, as he began pacing the room in frustration. "A cop is dead, Captain! Maybe somebody helped him suffocate."

"You can't hold a suspect on a maybe." Dobey reminded his men. He tended to side with Starsky and Hutch, but his hands were tied. He had to go by the evidence in front of him.

"Hunter was seen going into the room!" Starsky growled, trying to ignore the pounding in his head as he continued to argue with his Captain.

"Hunter's just a cheap nickel and dime hustler. Killing isn't part of his M.O." Dobey growled back, his own frustration with the case evident in his voice.

"Okay, Captain," Starsky said a bit more calmly. "What's really going on here?"

The Captain was quiet for several minutes before finally sighing heavily and leaning back in his chair. He took a white hanky from his pocket and wiped his face before answering. "Pressure, Starsky. Pressure like you'll never know."

"From where?" Starsky demanded

"From everywhere." Dobey snapped in an agitated voice. "The Chief's office, the Commissioner's office. The Mayor's office. The department's under a lot of pressure right now to let gays on the force."

"So?" Starsky said

"So, the department is not anxious to let the public know that one of their finest might have been a homosexual." Dobey told him with a heavy sigh.

"Maggie Blaine's handling it," Hutch said gruffly "You'd think the department could do the same."

"We're not going to back off this case!" Starsky declared, his voice rising in renewed anger and frustration. "No matter what the chief says, no matter what the commissioner says, no matter what…"

"I don't wanna know about it!" Dobey cut in with a hard edge of anger in his own voice as he lost patience with the confrontation.

"And if we come up with something?" Starsky demanded, standing his ground.

"You find something then you bring it to me." Dobey said grimly, pointing his finger at the darker half of the team for emphasis. "And we go regardless of the pressure!" he glared at his best team of detectives and barked "Now get out of here and get to work!"

The two men turned and left the office. Starsky hooked the door with his foot on the way out, slamming it behind them.

They decided to hit the streets. Shortly after they started their patrol, a call came over the air about a disturbance the Saint Francis Hotel. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the hotel and hurried into the building. They hurried down the hallway towards room 101 where the disturbance was supposedly coming from. Inside the room, they found the hotel manager lying on the floor with another man standing across the room. The second man was a cop that both Starsky and Hutch recognized as working for the Narcotics division.

"Lieutenant Corday." Starsky said with a slight nod of his head in the other man's direction.

"Narco isn't it?" Hutch asked, as Starsky knelt down beside the victim who appeared to have been stabbed in the chest. The apparent weapon lay on the floor beside his head, the blade stained with fresh blood.

"Yeah, Narco." Corday said. He was an older man in his mid to late forties with nearly trimmed dark hair and dark eyes that lacked any real emotion. He was nearly dressed in a dark suit and tie with a white shirt.

"What happened?" Hutch asked

"The guy's name is Lawford." Corday told him. "He was stabbed. By a punk named Nick Hunter. I already called it in."

"How do you know it was Nick Hunter?" Hutch demanded, careful not to let his face show his surprise at hearing Nick Hunter named as the suspect in a second murder.

"I was standing right outside the door." Corday explained "I hear Lawford yell. I open the door, Lawford is falling. And Hunter went out that window. He got away." He jerked his head at the broken window behind him. He appeared calm and his explanation sounded reasonable but Hutch was still suspicious.

"What were you doing here?"

"Well, I was supposed to have a meeting with him at three o'clock."

"What was the meeting about?"

"I busted him for dealing a couple of weeks ago. We were going to work out a deal. He gave me his source, he went free." Corday told him. "It looks to me like the source was Hunter but he arrived early."

"Okay." Hutch said. He exchanged a glance with Starsky. The brunet's face told him that Corday's story sounded a little too convenient to him too. Since Corday was already on the scene and reported the stabbing, Starsky and Hutch were free to leave. Technically, Corday was the higher ranking officer in charge of the investigation as first on the scene.

As they climbed back into the car, Hutch glanced at his partner and said, "You buy that?"

"Yeah, and I got some swamp land I'll sell you cheap." Starsky grunted. He glanced at his partner. "I think the whole story stinks."

"Me too. What do you know about Corday?"

"Not as much as I'd like to know." Starsky said "Let's go back to headquarters and see what we can dig up." Hutch nodded his agreement and headed his car back towards Metro Division.

They had just walked into the squad room when the phone on Hutch's desk began to ring. He grabbed the receiver and said, "Hutchinson."

"I know who killed Blaine," a muffled voice said in his ear.

Hutch threw Starsky a sharp glance and snapped his fingers, motioning for him to put a trace on the call. As Starsky nodded and picked up the other phone, Hutch said, "Yeah, go ahead."

"He's a cop. His name is Corday and he in Narco." There was a sharp click as the caller hung up. Hutch knew there hadn't been enough time to trace the call. Slamming down the receiver, he told Starsky "He said Corday killed Blaine."

The two men dashed from the squad room and went down to Narco where Hutch turned on the charm and convinced a clerk to give him Lawford's file. After reviewing the file between themselves, Starsky and Hutch went to see Captain Dobey.

Dobey listened patiently as his men explained what they suspected. "How did you get Lawford's file out of Narco?"

"Captain," Starsky said calmly "We've been through every word in that file."

"And all the evidence points to the fact that Lawford was holding and Corday let him off clean." Hutch said "Now if Corday was making a deal with Lawford, why doesn't somebody in the department know about it?'

"Some snitch calls you on the phone and you're ready to bust the whole Narco squad." Dobey said "Are you crazy or do you just not care about your careers?"

"Suppose Blaine stumbled across Corday and Lawford dealing in the hotel." Hutch suggested.

"If you're going to bust a police officer, you need more than a suppose." Dobey pointed out.

"Captain," Starsky said "First Blaine gets burned and then Lawford. Those are the two people that could have busted Corday and they're both dead."

Dobey folded his arms across his chest and looked at his two men solemnly as he thought about what they had said. After several minutes of silence, he said, "Disappear for twenty-four hours. Get some hard evidence and we'll do what we have to do."

Dismissing his men with a curt nod, Starsky and Hutch stood up and left the office. They went to Hutch's apartment to grab something to eat and come up with a plan to get the evidence they needed. Hutch invited Starsky to spend the night but he declined. If he had anymore dreams, he didn't want Hutch to witness them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Warning****: This chapter includes some graphic descriptions of sexual abuse. If this topic offends you, then don't read this chapter. **

Starsky whimpered in his sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed, tangling himself in the sheet. Caught in the midst of his nightmares, his eyes rolled back and forth beneath his closed lids.

_After that weekend, John began taking Starsky to the cabin whenever he could find the time to get away from the city. He always brought plenty of alcohol and even some weed once in awhile. He gradually started letting Starsky drink as much as he wanted to, no longer bothering to monitor his intake. _

_In the beginning, Starsky didn't notice the friendly little pats on his ass, or the lingering touch on his shoulder. Affectionate by nature, Starsky's immediate family had always openly shown affection to one another and he trusted John, so he didn't notice right away when the caresses started to became more intimate. Of course, the alcohol in his system also helped to blur his perceptions and lower his natural inhibitions. _

_One night they were sitting in front of the fire place, where Starsky was drinking and smoking, when John reached over and fondled Starsky through the soft fabric of his sweat pants. In a soft, soothing voice, John said, "You've got quite a package there, kid. I bet all your girlfriends really like playing with it."_

_Starsky felt a blush creeping up his neck as he shifted uncomfortably beneath the familiar touch of John's hand. "I ain't had no complaints…" Starsky said with a false show of bravado. _

"_I bet you haven't." John said with an amused chuckle. He lowered his voice to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against Starsky's cheek, "How would you like it if I played with it?"_

"_You're kidding right?" Starsky said with a nervous grin, pulling away slightly, as he looked at John, his deep blue eyes clouded with doubt. He struggled to pull himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily from the booze and the weed._

_John stood up and reached out to steady him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Come on, slugger. I think you need to lie down. You've had enough for one night."_

_Starsky protested weakly as John began to lead him towards his bedroom instead of the sofa where Starsky usually slept on their camping trips. When they entered the room, John gently eased him down to the edge of the mattress and then knelt down to pull off his tennis shoes and socks. "Get some sleep." He said, as he turned and left the room without looking back. Starsky snuggled up with the pillow in his arms and soon drifted into a heavy slumber. _

_Sometime later, he struggled to open his eyes, caught in that twilight world somewhere between sleep and being awake. He imagined a warm, wet mouth on his penis, his mind convincing him that he was having a 'wet dream' brought on by John's earlier comments about his girlfriends playing with his cock. He moaned as he felt long fingers fondling his balls, driving him crazy. In his dream, his bed partner seemed to know exactly which spots to touch and how to touch them to arouse him the most. _

_Moaning again, he began to involuntarily buck his hips, craving more of the tongue and mouth that were satisfying him like nobody ever had. With a strangled cry, he felt his body explode, the willing mouth that was sucking him swallowing all he had to offer, something none of his previous girlfriends had ever done before. The sensation was even better than his wildest fantasies. His body slowly relaxed as he drifted back into a deep sleep. _

_When Starsky opened his eyes the next morning, he blushed when he remembered his dream. Tossing aside the sheet, he was surprised to find no visual evidence of his nocturnal fantasy. Puzzled, but secretly relieved that he didn't have to embarrass himself by telling John he'd had a 'wet dream', he climbed out of the bed and made his way into the bathroom to wash up and get dressed for the day. _

_As he stripped for a quick shower, he was puzzled when he saw the faint bruises on his left hip. If he didn't know better, he would have said they were left there by someone's fingers. He was vaguely aware that his cock seemed more sensitive than usual, his own touch making it swell in response. Shaking his head, he turned on the water and stepped beneath the soothing spray as he let his dream fade into the back of his mind. _

Starsky awoke with a start and a sharp cry. He hadn't thought about that night at John's cabin in years. Looking back, he knew now that he hadn't been dreaming that night, no matter how hard he had tried to convince himself over the years that he had been. That night had been the beginning of his sexual abuse at John Blaine's hands.

Stumbling from his bed, Starsky staggered into the bathroom and fell to his knees in front of the commode. He retched violently, emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the bowl, as the memories he had kept suppressed for years came flooding back in vivid detail. He gagged until his throat and stomach hurt. Finally, he stopped but he stayed there on his knees for several long minutes before he found the strength to pull himself to his feet.

Swaying unsteadily, he reached out to grab the sink before he lost his balance. His first instinct was to call Hutch but then he stopped himself. This was something he wasn't ready to share with anyone, especially Hutch. Instead, he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the water was as hot as he could stand. Climbing into the tub, he began to scrub his skin until it was red, but nothing could wash away the shame he felt at the betrayal of trust he had experienced at the hands of a man he admired and looked up too for so many years.

Finally, he climbed out of the shower and grabbed his robe from the back of the bathroom door, wrapping it tightly around his body and tying the belt around his waist. He knew it was going to be another long, sleepless night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next morning, Starsky and Hutch began their search for Nick Hunter. They suspected him of being the anonymous caller who had pointed the finger at Corday as Blaine's killer. They felt certain that Sugar, the cross dresser from The Green Parrot, would know where to find him but first they had to find him. They doubted if the bartender at the club would tell them anything, so they turned to their best source on the street. Huggy Bear. They found Huggy hawking one of his get rich schemes on the streets near The Pits.

"We need your help, Huggy." Starsky said as he eyed his old friend solemnly. "We think a cop killed Blaine."

"A cop?" Huggy said with a sneer. "Thought you guys had enough problems without knocking each other off."

"We only got a day, Hug." Starsky said impatiently.

"It's always good to be needed." Huggy said in a chipper tone.

"You know Sugar? Entertainer over at the Parrot club?" Hutch asked

"Does a fly know flypaper?" Huggy Bear replied with a smirk

"Does the fly know where Sugar lives?" Starsky asked

"1324 Ridgefield. Apartment 316."

"Wait a minute," Hutch said "How'd you know that so quick?"

"It's part of my great knowledge of trivia." Huggy answered with a straight face. "And don't knock it."

"Oh, I'm not." Hutch reassured him.

"There's something else." Starsky told him

"There's always something else with you two." Huggy said

"We want you to go undercover with a friend." Starsky told him

"Well, that's easy. I've been undercover all my life."

"As a gay dude in the Green Parrot?" Starsky asked with a smirk.

"Oh, man…you don't want much, do ya?" Huggy asked. "Okay. When?"

"Tonight." Hutch said

"Where are you two gonna be while I'm playing gay?" Huggy asked

"Oh, don't worry. We'll be there." Starsky told him "Be there by nine."

The two detectives walked away to put the next part of their plan into effect. Starsky drove to the address Huggy had given them for Sugar. It was a moderately priced apartment building close to the club where he worked. They climbed out of the car and took the elevator to the third floor.

Hutch's knock was answered by Sugar himself. He had obviously just stepped out of the shower. His hair was still wet and he was dressed in a dark blue robe.

"Well, hello there." He said when he saw who his visitors were.

"We're looking for Nick Hunter." Hutch told him

"He's not here." Sugar said with a flirtatious smile. "Will I do?"

"Yeah, you'll do fine. Mind if we come in?"

"Got a warrant?" Sugar said, his mood changing from friendly to guarded in an instant.

"Do we need a warrant?" Starsky asked

"Get lost." Sugar growled as he started to slam the door. Starsky threw out his arm to stop the door from closing completely. Sugar glared at the two detectives and snapped "I don't know anything!"

"If you see Nick tell him we know who killed Lawford." Hutch said as Starsky moved his arm and Sugar slammed the door. The two detectives exchanged a glance and stayed where they were, waiting patiently. A few seconds later, the door flew open and Nick Hunter stood there. He stopped in surprise obviously not expecting the two detectives to still be standing in the hallway. In a resigned voice, he said,

"It was me that called you."

"Yeah, we figured that." Hutch told him "There's an APB out on you. Now, if your friend will let us come in, maybe we can help each other out."

Nick glanced at Sugar who shrugged his shoulders. Nick stepped aside and ushered Starsky and Hutch into the apartment. As Nick closed the door behind them, Starsky said, "Suppose you start by telling us your story. From the beginning."

"Okay, okay." Nick said "I picked up Blaine at the Parrot and went back to his hotel with him. I figured he'd be an easy hussle, ya know?" When neither Starsky nor Hutch replied, he continued, "When we got to the Saint Frances, I told the manager to give me the key to his room. I saw Corday there. He was in the back behind the curtain but I still saw him. I took Blaine up to his room and he passed out on the bed. I took his money and then I split. I didn't know nothing about him being killed till you two busted me and I sure as hell didn't know he was a cop."

"What about Lawford's murder?" Hutch asked

"Lawford put up my bail. He called me and told me to meet him. He figured I saw Corday that night and he said he'd give me enough money to get out of town. When I got there, Corday was there. He had a gun and I knew he was going to shoot me. I busted a window and ran." Nick said "Lawford was alive the last time I saw him."

"That's pretty much how we figured it went down." Hutch said

"If you help us nail him, we'll make sure you come out of this whole thing clean." Starsky told Hunter.

"What do I have to do?" Hunter asked in a resigned voice.

"Act as bait to help us catch him." Hutch said. He laid out his plan to Nick and Sugar, who both agreed to help them go after Corday. They worked out the details and Nick agreed to accompany Sugar to the Green Parrot that night at nine. Starsky and Hutch returned to their own apartments to wait for evening to carry out their plan.

At nine o'clock that night, Hutch, Starsky and Huggy were all in place inside the bar. Shortly after nine, Sugar, dressed up like Marilyn Monroe, came into the bar, accompanied by Nick. They immediately disappeared back stage, while Hutch mingled with the crowd, watching the entrance. Starsky was already in place in the back.

Five minutes later from his vantage point in the back of the room, Hutch saw Corday slip through the doorway. He immediately headed for the back of the club. Hutch followed at a safe distance, careful not to be seen.

Corday glanced in the various dressing room as he passed by. He saw Sugar sitting in front of her dressing table, putting on her makeup. She was alone, so he moved on. The next two rooms were empty. In the third, he saw Hunter sorting through some costumes on a rack.

"Hunter!" he yelled as he stepped into the doorway and fired his gun. The mirror across the room, which had been sat so that it reflected Nick's image, shattered when the bullet hit it. At the same time, Starsky jumped out of hiding, his gun held in a two fisted grip and yelled, "Drop it, Corday!"

Corday fired off another shot at Starsky. It went wild but it still forced the brunet to duck for cover. Corday ran down the hallway with Starsky in pursuit. Unfortunately, Sugar picked that moment to come out of his dressing room. Corday immediately grabbed him and used him as a human shield to hold Starsky at bay. Hutch had appeared at the opposite end of the hallway but couldn't take a chance on shooting because he might hit Sugar.

"DROP YOUR GUN, STARSKY!" Corday ordered "OR I'LL BLOW HIS BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL!" To emphasize his point, he ground the barrel of his revolver against Sugar's temple. Starsky let his weapon fall to the floor, unwilling to take any chances with Sugar's safety. He began to walk backwards down the hallway, keeping both Starsky and Hutch in sight as he tried to make his escape.

As Corday disappeared through the curtains that led into the main part of the club, Starsky grabbed his gun up from the floor and joined Hutch to run after him. Screams could be heard from the club as Corday appeared with his hostage and his gun.

Corday fired at them as the two detectives burst through the curtains. Starsky went left and Hutch went right, seeking cover behind some overturned tables. The club was in chaos as customers screamed and ran for safety amidst the sudden gunfire that had erupted in their midst. Starsky and Hutch both returned fire, taking care to avoid hitting any innocent bystanders.

In his haste to escape, Corday fell backwards over an overturned chair. Sugar managed to get away and ran for cover behind the bar. Starsky saw his shot and took it, hitting Corday in the right shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon. Before he could react, Hutch ran across the room and handcuffed the wounded man's behind his back.

"You're under arrest, Corday." He snarled "For the murder of John Blaine and Gary Lawford."

"And all the other charges we can find to pin on ya." Starsky added, holstering his gun as he joined his partner. Hutch pulled Corday to his feet while Starsky went to find a phone to call for assistance. It was almost three o'clock in the morning before they had things wrapped up enough to call it a night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The early morning sun found an exhausted Starsky trying to summon enough energy to face the day. After a sleepless night, his eyes felt like they were filled with sand and his head pounded relentlessly. Even three cups of strong, black coffee did little to revive him. Luckily, it was his day off so he didn't have to worry about going to work. Slumping down on the sofa, he turned on the television and flipped through the channels without much interest. Now that Blaine's murder had been solved, he hoped that the memories would go away. The shame he felt was intense. _How could he have forgotten something so terrible? What other memories lurked deep within his sub-conscious that he had blocked out?_ Against his will he let his thoughts drift back, not to his teenage years and the time he'd spent with John at his cabin, but to the eighteen months that he had spent in Viet Nam.

_He had arrived in southeast Asia, a scared eighteen year old trying hard to be a man. Within hours of his arrival on foreign soil, his unit had been attacked and three men had been killed. As the days passed, he had learned to adapt to the humidity that hung heavily in the air and the insects that seemed to feast on his blood. He learned to watch every step he took, constantly on guard for trip wires or hidden pits. And he learned to shoot to kill, soon becoming the most proficient marksmen on his squad. _

_But, he learned more than that in the dark shadows of the night. He soon discovered that in the jungles of Viet Nam where women were in short supply, men often turned to other men for sexual relief. Hurried hand jobs in the showers or hidden in the shadows behind the barracks were a common practice. A practice that Starsky eventually found himself participating in when the need became too strong to ignore. _

_But, even though he allowed another man to touch him, to give him sexual gratification with his hands or his mouth, Starsky never voluntarily touched another man unless he was the aggressor. And he never allowed another man to touch anything but his cock, any place else was strictly off limits. And, he never kissed another man that was an act of intimacy that was reserved solely for women. _

Starsky forced his thoughts back to the present. He had never thought about his sexual activities in Viet Nam, never questioning how easily he had fallen into the practices that everyone else took for granted in that god forsaken place. But, now with his returning memories, he found himself wondering if he had been pre-conditioned to homosexuality because of his sexual abuse during his teenage years. Bouncing to his feet, he began pacing the floor restlessly, tormented by long repressed memories.

Determined to get some sleep without dreaming, he wandered into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Stuck way in the back on the top shelf, he found a bottle of sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed several months ago when he was knifed while subduing a prisoner. He had only taken a couple of them. He didn't like how groggy they left him in the mornings. Popping the cap, he shook two pills out into the palm of his hand and swallowed them dry. Walking into his bedroom, he stripped down to his briefs and slid under the sheets. Curling up on his side, he felt his eyelids growing heavy as the pills began to work their magic.

_It was the summer just before he turned seventeen. In the past six months, he had grown to his full height of five foot eleven and was popular with all of his peers. In the past few months, he hadn't spent much time with John, so he felt hard pressed to refuse when John asked him to go camping with him for the weekend. _

_Despite the sporadic episodes of abuse that had occurred on those camping trips in the past, it had been over a year since John had tried to touch him sexually. Since Starsky had been heavily intoxicated whenever the abuse occurred, his memories of the abuse was vague at best. Most of the time, it was easy for him to forget that anything inappropriate had ever happened. _

_As usual, John had brought several six packs of beer with him and he encouraged Starsky to start drinking as soon as they arrived at the cabin. Starsky accepted a beer but spend two hours sipping it instead of drinking too heavily. When he finished it, he accepted a second one without thinking about it. _

_Halfway through the second bottle of beer, he started feeling dizzy and disoriented. Starsky knew that he hadn't drank enough to make him drunk even thought he felt as if he had. When he stood up and almost stumbled over the coffee table, John was there to grab his arm before he lost his balance._

"_Come on, tiger…" John scoffed "I think you've had enough."_

"_I'm not drunk…" Starsky slurred, as John tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the bedroom._

"_It's okay, baby…let me take care of you…" John whispered, his voice sounding muffled and far away. Although Starsky tried to resist, his body refused to obey his brain. He meekly allowed John to lead him into the bedroom and ease him down onto the bed. _

_He felt vaguely disturbed when John began undressing him, pulling off his shoes and then his clothes until he was naked except for his red bikini briefs but he felt too tired and sleepy to object. He felt himself drifting off, his eyes snapping open in alarm when he felt John nudging him over onto his stomach and then pulling his arms over his head. _

_Before he could arouse himself enough to resist, Starsky felt John tying his wrists to the headboard of the bed, restraining him. He tried to kick out at the older man but his legs felt weighted down. It took him a moment to realize that his legs were pinned to the bed by the weight of John's body leaning over him. _

_When he was satisfied that Starsky's hands were secured, the teenager felt John pulling apart his legs and tying his ankles to the footboard of the bed. Panic made the brunet's heart pound in his chest, as his hands curled into fists. He tried to yell, to tell John to stop, to let him go, but whatever John had given him prevented him from resisting or calling out for help. _

_A whimper escaped his lips as he felt John's hands on his body, stroking and caressing him intimately. Hot breath brushed against his ear, as John whispered into his curls, "Shhh…it's going to be all right. I'm not going to hurt you, David. I could never hurt you. I love you…"_

_Hot tears stung Starsky's eyes as he felt rough hands tugging at his underwear pulling his briefs down around his knees. Starsky struggled to free himself, but, he was still too disoriented to do much more than squirm around on the mattress beneath him. He began panting heavily, trying to get a handle on the sudden terror that threatened to overwhelm him. _

_Suddenly, he felt an intense burning pain, following by a sudden pressure and the sensation that his body was being ripped in two. A ragged scream ripped from his parched throat as the pain intensified, along with the pressure deep in the very core of his body. Tears fell freely down Starsky's cheeks as he felt John thrusting into him, hard and rough, while his lips kissed the back of Starsky's neck. Starsky screamed until his voice gave out, his mind finally shutting down as his body was viciously assaulted. _

_Slowly, Starsky forced his heavy eyes open. He was still lying face down on the bed with John curled up against his side, snoring in his sleep. It took several minutes for Starsky to realize that his hands and feet were no longer tied and that he was no longer wearing his underwear. A strangled sob caught in his throat as the vivid memory of the vicious rape came rushing back. _

_Biting back another sob, Starsky carefully eased his aching body out of the bed, moving as slowly and quietly as possible to avoid waking John. As he gathered up his discarded clothes from the floor, he involuntarily moaned. His entire body ached and his ass felt like it was torn and bleeding. As he pulled on his clothes, he noticed the abrasions on his wrists and his ankles from where he had been restrained. _

_All he could think of was getting the hell out of the cabin before John woke up. His legs trembled and there was a dull ache in his head that made it hard to think. When he was dressed, he crept out of the cabin and slipped out the front door. Even though he was miles from the city, he was determined not to stay in the cabin any longer than he had too. _

_Briefly, he thought about hotwiring John's car but decided against that idea. John was a cop. He'd be in big trouble if he got caught driving John's car. He might even report it stolen and with Starsky's juvenile record, who would believe him if he told anyone what had happened at the cabin. It was better to just start walking and hope that he could hitch a ride once he reached the main highway. _

_Traumatized and still under the influence of the drug John had slipped into his beer, his only thought was to escape as he headed into the woods. As he walked through the heavy foliage, his mind was already beginning to repress the memory of what had happened to protect the teenager's mental health. By the time, he reached the road and caught a ride back to Bay City, Starsky was already beginning to block out the images that kept trying to creep into his head. _

_When he returned to his Aunt and Uncle's home three days earlier than he was expected, he simply told them that there had been a change of plans. Since John was a police officer who often had to change plans at the last minute due to his job, neither of them questioned Starsky any farther. _

_John didn't return home for four days and when he did, Starsky went out of his way to avoid him. To his credit, John chose to keep his distance which made it even easier for Starsky to bury the memory of the rape deep within his sub-conscious. Eventually, it was as if it had never happened._

Starsky awoke with a scream dying on his lips, as his heart pounded frantically in his chest. In a panic, he jumped to his feet, only to fall to his knees beside the bed as he began to retch violently, holding his arms against his stomach protectively. His body shook uncontrollably as the memory he had repressed for so many years came back with vivid clarity.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Hutch frowned as he hung up the phone. Starsky had called in sick to work for the past two days and he wasn't answering his phone. Hutch had tried stopping by Starsky's apartment after work the day before but the Torino was gone and the apartment was empty. He had driven by Starsky's place on his way to work that morning but the Torino was still missing. Worry nudged at Hutch's mind. Something was desperately wrong. He was positive of that but he didn't know what it was. The only thing he knew for sure was that Starsky had been acting strangely since John Blaine's murder.

Hutch realized that he had been too patient. He should have pushed it, made Starsky tell him what was bothering him. Now it may be too late. Starsky was running from something and Hutch had no idea where to start looking for him. He knew if he put an ABP out on his missing partner, Starsky would go ballistic when he finally turned up. There had to be another way to find him.

Hutch's detective mind began to sort out the pieces, trying to solve the puzzle. He thought back to their conversation with Maggie Blaine shortly after John's body was found. Maybe she knew something that could help. He decided to pay her a visit. Even if she couldn't help him find Starsky, maybe she could tell him why Starsky was acting so out of character.

Maggie seemed to be surprised when she opened the door and found Hutch standing on her doorstep. "Ken," she said warmly "What a pleasant surprise. Isn't David with you?"

"No," Hutch said with a charming smile. "As a matter of fact, I was hoping that maybe you had seen him."

"No, I'm sorry. I haven't." Maggie said. She looked at Hutch closely, a frown tugging at her brow. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure." Hutch admitted "Can I come in for a minute?"

"Of course. Please, come in." She ushered Hutch into the house, closing the door behind him. "Would you like some coffee? Maybe a glass of lemonade?"

"No, thank you." Hutch declined politely as he followed her into the living room. Several boxes were sitting around the room, some open and some taped shut. He looked at Maggie, arching one eyebrow questioningly.

"I was just sorting through some of John's things." Maggie explained, a hint of carefully controlled sadness creeping into her voice. "It's amazing how much junk a person can accumulate over the years. Stuff you forget you even have."

"Yeah, I know." Hutch said with an understanding smile. "Maggie, Starsky's been really upset since John was murdered…something's been bothering him and I don't know what it is. I don't know how to help him…he won't talk to me."

"David's always been like that…especially when he was a teenager. He used to be so close to John…until he got older…then something happened…and he stopped coming over…John said he was just growing up…but I think it was more than that."

"Do have any idea what it might have been?"

"No." Maggie said a bit too quickly to satisfy Hutch. He didn't want to push Maggie, to force her to talk about things that would only cause her more pain, but he would if it meant finding out what was wrong with Starsky. It was the only way he knew to help his partner deal with whatever was bothering him.

Hutch reached out and gently touched Maggie's arm, pleading silently with his eyes. "Are you sure, Maggie?" he asked quietly. "You have no idea what caused the falling out between Starsky and John?"

"I didn't…not then…" Maggie said, a sob catching in her throat as her eyes filled with unshed tears. "God, I wish I had…maybe things would have been different."

"Maggie, what aren't you telling me?" Hutch asked

With a sad look in her eyes, Maggie turned and walked over to one of the boxes. Rummaging through it, she took out a yellowed envelope and clutched it to her breast. Looking into Hutch's soft blue eyes, she took a deep, shuddering breath and said, "I found these hidden away in the back of John's desk." Her hand was trembling as she reached out to hand the envelope to Hutch.

Hutch took the envelope, hesitating for a moment, before opening it. Inside he found several snapshots. As he pulled them out, he realized that they were pictures of a much younger Starsky in various poses, some by himself and some with John. The first few pictures were innocent enough, but then they took a more sinister appearance as they began showing images of Starsk in various stages of undress. In most of the latter pictures, Starsky appeared to be either drunk or stoned. The last few pictures were the most incriminating since they showed a nude Starsky lying on a bed with his eyes closed as if he were asleep or unconscious. In the very last picture, Starsky's hands and ankles were clearly tied to the bed frame.

Hutch fought back the bile that rose in his throat as he raised his stricken eyes to meet Maggie's gaze. In a choked voice, he said, "He abused Starsky when he was a kid?"

"I think so…" Maggie admitted as her tears began to fall freely. "I didn't want to believe it when I found those pictures…I still don't want to believe it…but it explains so many things."

"What kind of things?"

"In the beginning…David was like the son we never had…he was part of our family…but then…as he got older…it was almost as if John became obsessed with David. He talked about him all the time…he used to take pictures of him every chance he got and put them in photo albums. Sometimes, late at night…I'd find him looking at them and smiling…" She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "Then there were the trips to the cabin. John had a cabin up in the mountains and he used to take David there whenever he could get the time off. Once when they came back from one of their trips to the cabin, David let it slip that John was letting him drink and smoke pot whenever they went there." She sighed heavily as she let herself fall back into her own memories. "When David was sixteen, he started withdrawing…pulling away from John and John tried to hold on tighter. He started buying David things, giving him money…that sort of thing. Something happened just before David turned seventeen. I never knew what happened but that's when David stopped coming around at all."

"Starsky never told anybody that anything was wrong?" Hutch asked, even though he already knew the answer to his own question.

"No…but then I doubt if he would have. Even then, David was very loyal to his friends."

"What happened after that?"

"When David stopped coming around, John became very depressed. He spent more and more time looking at David's pictures. And he started drinking and staying out late at night." She paused and then added "And he stopped touching me…we slept in the same bed but we never touched anymore…" Her lips trembled as she continued "I think that's when I started to suspect things…to put two and two together…but, I still didn't say anything. I let it go…"

"You didn't know…nobody knew."

"I don't think John ever did anything like that with anyone else…I think David was the only one…I think John fell in love with David…but it was the wrong kind of love…and he couldn't accept that."

Instinctively, Hutch put his arms around Maggie's shoulders and pulled her close as she began to cry harder. As he held her tight, Hutch suddenly realized that John's obsession with Starsky had continued. His ex-lover, Peter Whitelaw, and the hustler he had picked up the night he was murdered, Nick Hunter, both bore a strong resemblance to Starsky. A resemblance that Hutch hadn't paid any attention to until now.

Now he knew what had been troubling Starsky but he was still at a loss as to how he was going to help him. Nothing he had learned in the past few minutes sounded like the John Blaine that Hutch had known for years. He wondered how many other secrets were hidden deep in the dead man's closet.

But, his first concern, his only concern, was for Starsky's well being. He realized now that the sexual abuse when he was a teenager had probably traumatized Starsky to the point where he had repressed a lot of those memories. Memories that were re-surfacing with Blaine's murder. Horrific memories that Starsky was trying to deal with alone because he was too ashamed or afraid to tell Hutch. He had to find Starsky and he had to find him soon. In his present state of mind, Hutch was seriously concerned. He had no idea what Starsky might do if the memories became too much for him to bear.

"Maggie, I have to go." Hutch said gently. "I have to find Starsky."

"I know." Maggie said "You find him and you take care of him. He needs you now…more than ever." She shook her head as Hutch started to return the incriminating pictures. "No, take those with you. Burn them….nobody needs to see them…especially David."

Hutch nodded and slipped the envelope in his jacket pocket. He gave Maggie an tender kiss on the cheek and then let himself out of the house. It was time to begin looking for his missing partner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**WARNING: ** **This chapter contains reference to a male rape. Do not read any farther if this topic offends you. **

Starsky sat in his car, staring out the windshield at the city in the valley below. This was his private spot, a spot where he came when he wanted to be alone. It was a spot that nobody else knew about, not even Hutch. He had found this spot when he first came to California as an angry adolescent with a chip on his shoulder. In his younger days he had often spent hours here, feeling sorry for himself and wishing that he was back in New York. The night before he left for boot camp, he had spent the entire night here getting plastered. The last time he had been here was when he had lost his darling Terri. Now, he found himself here again, lost in his own thoughts and memories of the past.

Although he had remembered a few of the times that John had touched him inappropriately when he was a teenager, he had effectively blocked out the more traumatic incidents, especially the rape just before he turned seventeen. That was one memory that had mercifully stayed buried in his subconscious until now. But, one thing he could remember quite clearly was the last time that John Blaine had ever tried to touch him.

_He had just returned home from his two years spent in the military. Eighteen months of that time had been spent in the jungles of Viet Nam. The last three months he had been a prisoner of war. He had returned to Bay City, bitter, angry and disillusioned, to find crowds of protesters at the airport calling him a 'Baby Killer" and spitting on him just because of the uniform he wore._

_He had spent the first three months back in the states in New York with his mother and Nicky, and in spite of his mother's attempts to get him to stay there, he felt the pull to return to Bay City and the warmer climate of California. Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al had welcomed him back with open arms._

_John and Maggie had moved during his absence and no longer lived right next door. Secretly, Starsky was relieved. He had never told anyone about John touching him. It was just another secret he had learned to hide. _

_When John called and invited him over to his house for a barbeque to welcome him back home, Starsky had accepted. John had never tried anything in his own home so he wasn't alarmed or concerned. Besides, he was older now and in better shape physically. He had also learned how to take care of himself over in the jungle. He could, and had, killed men with his bare hands._

_He arrived at the agreed upon time only to find that Maggie was gone. She was in San Francisco visiting her sister for a week, so John and Starsky were alone at the Blaine home. True to his word, John had barbequed and the first few hours of the visit were spent pleasantly enough just catching up. _

_It wasn't until he started to leave that the situation changed. _

"_Don't go, David." John pleaded, reaching out to grab Starsky's arm almost desperately. "It's been so long since I've seen you. It's getting late, why don't you spend the night in the guest room and go home in the morning?"_

"_No, I think I'd better take off now." Starsky said, starting to pull away._

"_You can't leave yet!" John said sharply. Suddenly, he pushed Starsky back against the wall and pinned him there with his body and began kissing him fiercely. _

_Starsky raised his hands to John's chest and pushed him away, glaring at his mentor angrily. "I'm leaving, John and this time I won't be coming back."_

_His mistake was turning his back on the older man. As he started towards the front door, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in the back of his neck that stunned him and sent him falling to his knees. _

_Before he could arouse himself enough to react, he felt a sharp sting in his left shoulder. Almost immediately, he felt dizzy and sick to his stomach. He felt John grabbing his arm and pulling to his feet but he was too disoriented to fight back. _

"_You're not walking out on me, David! Not this time!" John growled as he began to drag his unresisting captive towards the guest bedroom. He threw David down on the bed where the brunet landed on his back. Grabbing his wrists, John produced a pair of handcuffs and fastened Starsky's wrists to the headboard, effectively holding him prisoner until he decided to release him. _

"_John, please…don't do this," Starsky managed to slur even though his tongue felt swollen and his mouth was dry. "Let me go and we'll forget this ever happened."_

"_You're so beautiful," Blaine said, ignoring Starsky's protests as he reached out and trailed his fingers down the side of his face. "I've missed you so much…I want you so bad…"_

"_John, please…think about what you're doing…" Starsky pleaded _

"_I know what I'm doing!" John snapped, suddenly backhanding Starsky across the face. "I'm taking back what's mine!"_

"_I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!" Starsky yelled as his anger rose. "I DON'T BELONG TO ANYBODY!"_

"_Sassy as ever, aren't you?" John said as he pulled a white hanky out of his pocket. "I always warned you about that mouth of yours. You just never know when to keep it shut!" With those words, he tied the hanky around Starsky's head, gagging him and muffling his outraged voice. _

_The rape that followed was brutal and rough. When he was finished Blaine wept as he unfastened the cuffs to release Starsky. A badly shaken Starsky shoved himself to his feet and pulled on his clothes with trembling hands. The drug in his system made his movements awkward and uncoordinated. _

_Blaine slumped into a nearby chair and buried his face his hands, weeping heavily. He made no attempt to stop Starsky as he stumbled out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. _

_Starsky managed to get back to his own apartment and let himself in. The drug was starting to wear off and his body hurt, inside and out. He stood under a shower for a long time, the water as hot as he could stand without scalding his skin. But, no amount of scrubbing could wash away his shame._

_For the next three days, Starsky isolated himself in his apartment, ignoring the phone and not answering the door. When he finally ventured out, first thing he did fill out an application for the Police Academy. The second thing he did was have one final confrontation with John Blaine._

_In no uncertain terms, he told John that their relationship was over. He made it quite clear what would happen to him if Blaine ever tried to touch him again. Blaine apologized profusely, proclaiming his love for the brunet, but Starsky ignored his attempts to salvage something of their relationship. _

_Over the years, they came into contact with each other through the police department. They were civil to each other but the former closeness they once shared was gone. Starsky never shared his darkest secret with anyone, not even Hutch._

Starsky sighed heavily and forced his memories back into the recesses of his mind. Blaine's murder had left him dealing with the ghosts of his past and questioning his own sexuality. Even worse than that, the brutal memories of sexual abuse had him questioning his relationship with Hutch. They were closer than he and Blaine had ever been and physical contact was a big part of their relationship. He had never allowed another man to touch him the way that Hutch did, not since Blaine's sexual abuse when he was a kid. Did he subconsciously want Hutch the way that Blaine had wanted him?

Disturbed by that train of thought, he jumped to his feet and headed for his car. Maybe driving would clear his mind.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Starsky drove for hours with no particular destination in mind. Driving had always been therapeutic for the volatile brunet. Being behind the wheel of the powerful vehicle calmed and soothed him, clearing his mind and easing his stress and tension. It was almost three in the morning before he finally drove down the familiar streets towards his apartment.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find Hutch's battered LTD parked in front of his apartment when he pulled into the drive. He eased open the heavy door on the driver's side and climbed out of the vehicle. Locking the Torino, he slowly climbed the steps to his front door and opened it, stepping inside.

Hutch was sitting on the sofa, several empty beer bottles sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He turned to look at his partner with a worried expression on his face. "Where have you been, buddy?" he asked "I've been here for hours."

"I wasn't expecting company." Starsky said quietly. He nodded at the empty bottles on the table "Did you save me any or did you drink it all?"

"There's some left in the fridge." Hutch told him. He watched as Starsky ambled into the kitchen and pulled a cold one out of the refrigerator. The brunet twisted off the top and stood at the kitchen counter, taking a long swallow of the amber liquid. Hutch decided the best approach was to be direct. "I know what happened between you and John."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Starsky said, dropping his eyes to avoid his partner's concerned gaze.

"Yes, you do." Hutch said solemnly. "Maggie knows too. She's the one who told me."

The color drained from Starsky's face as his head shot up and he stared at his partner like an animal caught in a trap. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He took a stumbling step forward and would have fallen to his knees if Hutch hadn't jumped to his feet and rushed forward to grab his arms and steady him. Starsky gave a strangled cry and collapsed in the comfort of Hutch's embrace.

Hutch gently guided Starsky over to the sofa and they sat down side by side with Hutch's arm still securely around Starsky's shoulders. Hutch stayed silent. He could feel the coiled tension in his partner's body as Starsky struggled with his emotions.

"You wanna talk about it?" Hutch probed gently as he tried to encourage Starsky to start talking.

"What do you wanna hear?" Starsky asked in a choked voice that betrayed his inner turmoil. "You wanna hear how Johnny touched me when I was kid? How he got me drunk and then he fucked me? Is that what you wanna hear?"

"Is that how it happened?" Hutch asked, his own voice tight with repressed emotion. He wanted to lash out and punch something. If John Blaine wasn't already dead, he'd have beaten him to a pulp for the trauma he had subjected Starsky to when he was younger.

"It all started out so innocent…ya know?" Starsky mumbled, pulling away from Hutch's embrace and crouching in the corner of the sofa. He pulled his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins in a defensive posture, protecting himself the only way he knew how. Hutch nodded but kept silent. He knew that Starsky had to tell his story in his own way and at his own pace.

"At first it was just a hug here and there, a pat on the back, that kind of stuff." Starsky continued "I didn't think nothing about it because my family has always been pretty physical. Then as I got older, Johnny started talking to me about sex and offering advice…ya know, telling me how to do it with girls….one night…he got me drunk and talked me into jacking off in front of him."

Starsky flushed in embarrassment and paused. Hutch slid his arm back around the brunet's shoulders and squeezed encouragingly. The blond knew how hard it was for Starsky to finally tell his story to anyone. Starsky took a deep, shuddering breath and squared his shoulders determinedly.

"I was seventeen when Johnny raped me the first time. He got me drunk and he must have drugged me with something because I don't remember much about that night. I remember walking up the next morning and thinking that I'd just had some kind of weird dream. I got dressed and left. I walked back to town and tried to forget about what happened at the cabin. I guess I did a pretty good job because I didn't remember anything about that night until after Johnny was murdered…then it all started coming back."

"Was that the only time Johnny raped you?" Hutch asked

"No." Starsky admitted in a barely audible voice. "The second time happened just after I came back from 'Nam. Johnny invited me over to the house for a welcome home barbeque. I didn't think anything about it because Johnny had never tried anything at his house. When I tried to leave, he wanted me to stay. He started talking crazy…saying how he loved me and how I belonged to him. When I tried to get away, he stuck me with a needle. Whatever he gave me made it easy for him to drag me into the bedroom and tie me up. When he finished, he uncuffed me and let me go. I left and holed up in my apartment for three days. When I finally came out, I went to the Academy and signed up, then I went to see Johnny. I told him if he ever touched me again, I'd kill him. Then I left and I never had much to do with Johnny after that unless I had to." Starsky sighed heavily and looked at Hutch. "How did Maggie know?"

"She said she suspected things for years but was always too afraid to confront John. She knew something changed between the two of you when you came back from 'Nam but she never really put two and two together. She didn't want to believe something like that about John." Hutch sighed and took the photos out of his pocket, slowly handing them to Starsky. "Then she found these after Johnny was murdered."

Starsky's face paled again as he looked at the incriminating photographs. With a cry of rage, he ripped the pictures into pieces and threw the pieces down on the coffee table. His face was contorted with anger as he growled "How could he do that? I trusted him! He was my friend!"

"I don't know, buddy. In his own way, I think John really cared for you...and he thought you felt the same way about him."

"He hurt me, Hutch…he hurt me bad." Starsky admitted, leaning against his friend for emotional support as he began to sob, his shoulders shaking with silent tears.

"I know, babe…I know." Hutch said soothingly. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and pulled him close once more, holding him as he finally let go of the years of pain and secrecy that had scarred him emotionally. Starsky allowed himself to be held, seeking comfort from the one person he trusted unconditionally. Hutch held on until Starsky's breathing slowed and deepened, indicating that he had cried himself to sleep.

Moving carefully so he wouldn't disturb his friend, Hutch eased himself to his feet and gently laid Starsky down on the sofa so he could rest more comfortably. He covered the brunet with the Indian blanket from the back of the sofa. Sighing heavily, he went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

While the coffee was brewing, he gathered up the torn pieces of the pictures and threw them in the trashcan under the sink. Hutch was relieved that Starsky had finally opened up to him but now he wondered how much damage had been done to Starsky's psyche and how he was going to mend the shattered pieces of Starsky's traumatized emotions. No easy answers came to mind. He knew that the victims of childhood sexual abuse carried those emotional scars into adulthood, especially when that victim was a male. Hutch knew he wasn't going anywhere until he was sure that Starsky was able to deal with the re-surfacing memories without falling apart.

As he sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee to stay awake, Hutch let his thoughts drift back over the years that he had known Starsky. The brunet had always been macho, a real ladies man. One night stands and rotating girlfriends had been the norm. Hutch realized now that Starsky's free loving lifestyle could have been his way of proving to himself that he was normal in spite of his childhood abuse. It also explained his defensive behavior when the rumors started circulating that he and Hutch were more than 'just friends'. Hutch sighed heavily. He knew he had his work cut out for him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Hutch opened his eyes and groaned as he straightened up. He realized that he must have dozed off sitting at the kitchen table. He rotated his head to work the kink out of his neck and glanced over at the sofa. He was startled to find it bare. Starsky had gotten up while Hutch was asleep and was no where to be seen. The blanket was neatly folded over the back of the sofa and the apartment was quiet, much too quiet.

As Hutch struggled to his feet, he saw a shadow on the front deck. Opening the door, he found Starsky standing beside the tree that grew up through the middle of the deck, leaning against the railing and staring out at the horizon.

"Hey," Hutch said as he quietly joined his partner. "How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to watch the sunrise." Starsky said softly.

"You okay?"

"No…but I will be."

"How about if I hang around for awhile? So you won't have to deal with this on your own."

"I'd like that." Starsky admitted with a shy smile. "I guess I'm pretty fucked up right now."

"Not fucked up, buddy." Hutch told him "Just dealing with a lot of shit that you never had to deal with until now."

"I just keep asking myself why. Why me? Why did Johnny do that to me?"

"I don't know. I doubt if Johnny even knew why he did it. The two of you were awful close. Maybe, in his own way, Johnny thought that you were in love with him."

"I did love him…back then…just not like that."

"Maybe he couldn't tell the difference."

"So he had to rape me? Tie me up and drug me so he could do what he wanted to me?"

"You said that he was drunk too….maybe he wasn't thinking straight. Maybe tying you up excited him." Hutch offered helpfully.

"You saw Hunter and that guy he was shaking up with at the Saint Frances before that." Starsky said "They both looked a little bit like me."

"Maybe in his mind the only way he could still get close to you was by picking men who reminded him of you."

"I don't think he ever meant to hurt me." Starsky said, voicing his thoughts aloud.

"I mean…he was never violent with me, except for tying me up." He smiled sadly. "I guess I'll never know the answer to that one. Right?"

"Probably not."

"I need to talk to Maggie." Starsky said with a heavy sigh.

"Why?"

"I just need to. Would you go with me?"

"If you're sure that's what you really want to do."

"I have to. I need to know if she knew about me and John before she found those pictures."

"What good is going to do?"

"I just need to know. Okay?"Starsky insisted.

"Okay. We'll go over there this afternoon." Hutch told him. "Why don't you come back inside and I'll fix us some breakfast."

"Okay," Starsky said, tagging along behind Hutch like an obedient child as they walked into the house.

After a hearty breakfast, Starsky retired to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. The two partners spent the rest of the morning doing some chores around the house. After a light lunch, they left to pay a visit to Maggie Blaine.

Maggie didn't seem surprised to find the two detectives at her door. She smiled at Starsky as she graciously invited them inside. They retired to the living room where Maggie got each of them a glass of cold lemonade.

As she settled down on the sofa, she looked at her two visitors and said,  
"You have more questions?"

"I do." Starsky said quietly. "I need to know, Maggie. Did you know what John was doing to me before you found those pictures?"

Maggie looked uncomfortable with the question but she looked Starsky in the eyes as she answered, "No, David…I didn't. Maybe I just didn't want to see the signs. I don't know…but I swear to you, if I had know…I would have found a way to put a stop to it before it went too far. You have to believe that. I would never have let something like that happen to you."

"You had no idea that John was gay?"

"Not at first…no. I realize now that I overlooked a lot of things, blamed it on the job, the drinking…me." A tear slipped down her face. "I thought it was something I was doing wrong…that John had simply lost interest in me sexually as we got older." She took a deep breath before continuing. "There were other boys before you that John took under his wing but I don't think anything ever happened with any of them. I think it was just you. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because John used to say that you reminded him so much of himself when he was your age."

"Yeah, he used to tell me that too." Starsky said

"I think John really loved you…like the son he never had but he didn't know how to express that love. In his mind, he couldn't separate loving you like a son and being in love with you."

"When did you start to think something was wrong?"

"The summer you were seventeen." Maggie replied "That's the summer you stopped coming around…and you never said why. John didn't either. He just said that you were growing up. But, he used to spend hours just looking at all those pictures he'd taken of you over the years. He even called your aunt and uncle to check on you…to make sure you were staying out trouble. I knew something was wrong…that something must have happened…but I had no idea what John had done to you."

"What about the other men? When did you know John was gay?"

"Not for a very long time. I blamed myself when he started sleeping in another room. I thought it was me. Then I overheard a phone call one evening between him and Peter. I heard them making plans to meet somewhere and that's when I knew for sure."

"You never told John." Starsky asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"No, I was afraid that he'd leave me for Peter if he knew that I had found out." Maggie admitted. "I still loved him and I didn't want to lose him…especially to another man." She hung her head for a moment. "We had a good life. John was a good provider. I thought we were happy."

"He loved you, Maggie." Starsky told her "I know he did…even if he didn't always show it the way he should have."

"You're a good man, David. I'm proud of you and so was John. Can you ever forgive me for not knowing sooner what was going on?"

"There's nothing to forgive." Starsky said, gathering her into his arms and holding her close. "None of it was your fault. None of this would have happened if John had just been honest with everyone, including himself, from the beginning."

"It's too bad he didn't feel that he could do that." Hutch said somberly. "Maybe someday things will be different for men like John and Peter."

"Not anytime soon." Starsky said, glancing over Maggie's shoulder at his partner. "Not as long as there are people around who continue to use God as an excuse to condemn men like John."

Hutch arched an eyebrow at Starsky's comment. The two friends had seldom talked about their religious views. He knew that the Jewish religion condemned homosexuality just as most major religions did and although Starsky was no longer a practicing Jew, he had been raised in that culture and religion. He still observed the high holy days and celebrated Hanukkah. There were some beliefs and traditions that were deeply ingrained in his personality and that had helped form his value system. Sometimes, he was a contradiction of his blended cultures. He loved bacon but refused to eat other pork products. He loved Christmas but ignored Easter. He spoke Yiddish as fluently as he spoke English. He loved his family and held his mother on a pedestal. But, it was those very things that made Starsky who he was. Unfortunately, so did what had happened with John Blaine.

Maggie pulled herself out of Starsky's embrace and wiped the tears from her face. "I wish I could give you the answers you want, David…but I can't. We both have to learn to live with what John did…to both of us. How he betrayed us and left us behind to pick up the pieces." She smiled at Hutch fondly. "At least you have Hutch to help you."

"And you still have me." Starsky told her, giving her a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that." Maggie said through her tears.

Starsky and Hutch said their goodbyes, promising to stay in touch with Maggie and accepting her gracious offer to come for supper that weekend. As they left the house and headed back towards Starsky's apartment, the brunet was silent, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he broke his silence. "I don't think I can ever forgive John for what he did to me when I was a kid and I'll never forget it…but I can still remember the good things he did too."

"That's the best you can do, buddy." Hutch told him "You can't change the bad things he did but you can remember the good things…the part of John that made him a good cop and a good man."

"Can we stop by his grave?" Starsky asked "I'd like to say goodbye."

"You sure you're ready for that?"

"I'm as ready as I'm ever gonna be." Starsky said with a crooked smile.

Hutch nodded as Starsky abruptly changed directions. Twenty minutes later, Starsky pulled into the quiet, well landscaped cemetery where Maggie Blaine had laid her husband to rest. Hutch stayed in the car to allow Starsky some privacy as he said his final goodbye to his old mentor.

Starsky walked across the grass to the freshly dug grave and looked down at the mound of dirt. There was no headstone yet and the space looked cold and barren. Starsky shifted from one foot to the other, unsure how to start. Finally, he began to speak in a low, barely audible voice.

"I just came to say goodbye. We both know what you did when I was a kid and I can't forgive you for that. But, you were still there when I needed you and you kept me from turning out like Nicky. I owe you for that. I loved you, John, but I hated you too. I hated you for what you did to me. I hope you've finally found some peace and that God has mercy on your soul." With those parting words, Starsky turned and walked back to the car. His step was a bit lighter and he felt as if a weight had been taken from his shoulders. Maybe in time, he could learn to live with the memories that had haunted him for so long. He had his best friend at his side to make sure that he did. Until then, he would take it one day at a time and live the rest of his life to the fullest.

THE END


End file.
